Life as Deidara
by Taeryfai
Summary: Deidara's entire life in his P.O.V. with only 1K odd words. COMPLETED


**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, if I did Sakura would not exist, Naruto would be cleverer and the Akatsuki would all be alive.**

My true identity the one of a trembling, scared, broken little boy was always hidden under smiles, cheerfullness and never-seeming-to-end-optisism. I always wore that mask, no-one ever saw the boy underneath the pretence. No-body not the teachers, my supposed friends, my family even. I never dropped the mask until I was completely alone and only then would I cry and wetten my shirt with my tears.

My blue eyes would be red around the trim showing that I had been crying, so I wore eyeliner to hide it, my left eye was scarred showing the not so cheery truth so I used my blond fringe to cover it. No one ever saw me cry or see that my entire personality was an illusion, I was an enigma to everyone as all they ever saw was the lie.

I was quickly sinking into despair but I found an escape in the form of my sculptures, which I then blew up to relieve pent up emotions. I decided from then on that art was fleeting as true happiness could never last forever, you could try to perserve it but you would always fail and lose it eventually. It was better to be fleeting, it would be less of a disappointment when it went.

I grew into a young man, I had been part of a team when I decided to leave, judging by my exterior they presumed I did not have enough respect or power from what I did. That would be a lie like nearly everything in my pitible life, I had enough of blowing things up meanlessly for the sake of a squad who did not know me. Explosions were a fine piece of art to be admired and not to end lives for no major reason. They dubbed me traitor, a S-ranked criminal, I did not care as they did not know what I was capable of. After all I had been forced to make poor, unworthy bombs. It stilfed my creativity to make mere bombs, not real art. Bombs killed, art inspired.

An organzation wearing black cloaks with red clouds approaching me, they wanted to use my pitible works in their group, my over-sure exterior challanged them to a duel. They were the best of the best yet they could not see that I was measuring them up and in fact I did not care if I joined or not and I used this as a test of their ablities.

I challanged the quiet Black haired one, I had already knew the others' ablities from conversations in bars and other such places, I needed to learn more about this person as I too wore a mask but a far more easy one to pick out. The weasel fastinated me when he used a genjutsu on me using his sad, red-eyes. It was truly beautiful when in that spilt second I could read all of the man's concealed expressiom then it was over. True art was fleeting, that proved it.

My partner ended up being the puppet which collected me alongside the weasel. He had an odd view on art, he said that art was eternal. I disagreed as quite frankly, nothing lasted forever and thus the puppet was bound to be dissapointed.

One mission lead to my partners' death, it was funny how the 'eternal' one was the first one of them to die. His miserable, broken body was proof that art could never be eternal. I smirked, knowing I would almost miss the puppet's poor arguments over how art was eternal. I thought I had finally proven my point to the puppet.

That was also the mission which I fought the Ichibi and Kyuubi, I defeated the Ichibi at the cost of an arm, I lost to the Kyuubi and his companion also at the cost of an arm. Oddly enough, I felt kinship to the Jinchuuriki. I had also been despised when young, I felt the most kinship for the Ichibi though, he too had an asshole of a father. It was almost a shame that he had to die.

My new partner was considered to be a human lollypop because of his orange swirl mask. He was an odd one, always cheerful and hyper even after my bored attempts to blow him up. Also there was a part of him, barely noticable to others that was cold and sinister. I continued to notice it and deduced that the lollypop wore two masks, one on his personality, the other his face.

Then the immortal and the guy with a tremendous lot of hearts for prolonged existence both died. Life always had an end, my point was being proven over and over again. Art was fleeting. When I smirked over their deaths, everyone looked at me at last seeing a slight insight to my inner personality or just because they were thinking me as a heartless bastard. The latter I guess I am, my heart had long hardened over.

I wondered who was next to die, I figured me, but heck I did not fear death like the ones before me, I'll embrace it when my time comes. I wondered who would come after me, I presumed the weasel, he was prolonging his life with drugs anyway or the leader who had seperate bodies.

I met up with the weasel's brother, the fight was almost fun, I decided that I was correct and I would die next half way through the fight. By the what the boy was saying, I figured the weasel would be in fact after me. The boy used the snake guy's jutsu for a shield against my attack, the snake guy had also died despite having a jutsu which was supposed to prevent death. My point gets proven so many times, it is almost sad that no-ones realises it, art is fleeting as it is merely a mirror to life.

I heard myself shout to the world that art was a blast, it was amusing seeing the fear in the boy's face as I became pure chakra and was about to explode myself. I guess I was adding some extra time to Itachi's life by doing so but the lollypop would probally come to an end as well. This would be my largest piece of art ever, I only wished that I had more time to make it more beautiful. I stop my train of thought there, art was fleeting who was I to wish for more time. Then everything faded. My very last thought had been 'Art is fleeting.'


End file.
